


Backwards

by cathalin



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Kink/Cliche Challenge, Kinks, M/M, Spanking, slapping (not face)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-15
Updated: 2011-05-15
Packaged: 2017-10-19 10:46:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathalin/pseuds/cathalin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, doing a relationship ass-backwards can actually lead to mutual... satisfaction. A fic involving spanking, dressing room sex and two people finally figuring out where they belong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Backwards

**Author's Note:**

> Involves consensual spanking, slapping (not face), hints of very mild D/s.

It happens when they're sharing a dressing room at a reunion concert. Adam walks in on Kris cleaning up Adam's favorite cologne from the floor. The bottle lies shattered at his feet, and Kris is wiping at the spill with a towel.

Kris looks up guiltily when Adam comes in.

"Shit!" Adam covers the distance between him and Kris in four easy steps. "What the fuck happened?"

"Oh, man, I'm sorry," Kris says, wiping up the mess ineffectually. "I'll buy you a new one. I don't know what's wrong with me, I just--"

"You've been like this all day!" Adam grabs another towel and leans down to sop up more of the cologne. "You've got to get your head together."

"I know. I just--"

"First my suit, then the wine, now this! I should spank you!"

"Uh--"

Adam scrubs at the carpet. "Clearly you need to be punished."

"I--" Kris's voice sounds choked and Adam glances up at him. Kris looks kind of... weird.

"Kidding!" Adam clarifies, even though that's obvious. "It's no big deal. You're just having an off day."

Spots of color have bloomed in Kris's cheeks. Kris gapes at him, towel dangling from hand. His pupils look a little dilated.

Adam feels his eyebrows go up. "Whoa."

Kris bites his lip and turns his face away, color spreading down his neck, under his collar.

"Oh," Adam says. "Oh, honey, no, don't be embarrassed. That's--That's really normal, and I caught you at a weird time and--"

"Oh, my god, why can't I be harder to read," Kris moans, finally glancing at Adam sideways. "'Embarrassed' doesn't even begin to cover it."

Adam pushes to his feet. His heart is beating a little fast and his palms are sweaty. "It's nothing to be--I'll tell you something embarrassing about me if that'll help? If there's anything left I haven't told you?"

"Nothing will help, oh my god."

"You're just a little off, what with the whole, you know, Katy thing?" Adam is careful; Kris is so raw right now with the separation; only a handful of people know about it, and the last thing Adam wants is to make things harder for Kris.

Kris nods miserably and Adam can't help it, he moves closer, puts his hands on Kris's shoulders from behind. "Kris," he says softly. "Don't be embarrassed. Oh, my god, I've told you about way more embarrassing things than that. So what if there's something a little kinky that turns you on. That's great, that's awesome." And it is. In fact, it's so awesome that Adam's getting hard, and finds himself moving up right behind Kris. Just the very idea--

No. He's not turning his friend into porn, especially not now, when he's been through so much.

"I just." Kris's voice is almost a whisper. "It caught me off guard, and it's been so long..."

Heat washes up Adam's spine. His hands firm on Kris's shoulders. His mouth somehow is very close to Kris's ear. "When you, do you...?" He takes a deep breath; Kris is completely still. Adam searches for exactly the right way to put it. "Is that something you need right now?"

Adam's having a little trouble breathing. He'd wondered more than once about Kris, but since he never let his thoughts go where they wanted to so long as Kris was trying to make it work with Katy...

Kris leans back, just a fraction of an inch, but definitely leans back, into Adam's hands. "I--This is too weird."

"Yeah. Pretty weird," Adam murmurs. "But I--I wouldn't ever think the worse of anyone, let alone you, for liking something like that. It doesn't have anything to do with what a person is like in regular life. And," Adam swallows. Should he risk it? "And it's really fucking hot," he adds, trying to make it sound like a joke, but also not, so Kris can choose.

Kris breaths out with a little half-gasp and Adam's body goes on full alert. He steps so he's flush with Kris's back, lets one hand slide down Kris's side, linger right on the edge of the place on his back that separates what's neutral to touch, and what's clearly sexual. It's one of the places he loves best on men, actually, the little dip right before the waist flares into the ass. Kris shivers under his hand.

"Oh my god," Adam whispers, so turned on he can hardly think. "Kris, Kris, can I? Do you want, do you need, oh _fuck_."

"Too complicated?" Kris whispers.

"Yeah. For sure." Adam needs to protect Kris right now; he's in a vulnerable state. "Somebody else." But his traitor hand moves a fraction of an inch lower, cups the top of the rise of Kris's ass cheek; his gorgeous, rounded ass cheek.

Kris gasps and leans his head back on Adam's shoulder. "You," he growls. "Only you."

"Fuck," Adam whispers, holding onto Kris and walking backwards and locking the door.

He can't think clearly, it's all just too crazy. He'd thought, after a decent amount of time, maybe they'd actually talk about the potential between them, something they've both basically acknowledged. And then maybe, with time, something more might develop. But he never imagined something like this, something so, so--

He can feel Kris's shoulders stiffening under his hands and he realizes this could go bad, really fast, if he doesn't just fucking get with the program. Whatever else, Kris needs him now, needs this. Which is a complete fucking mind trip, but--He lets go of Kris's shoulders and grabs his hand, pulls him without words to the sofa they were famous enough to score in their dressing room.

He sits in the middle and pulls Kris down quickly over his lap, not wanting to give Kris time to think or for things to get weird. Normally if he were going to do something like this, or have it done to him, he'd engage in some foreplay and some cuddling first. But this is something else, and he's not even sure if this is sexual, or some deeper need Kris has.

"I don't know if we should--It's too weird," Kris says. His face is red and he isn't looking at Adam.

"Shhh," Adam says, soothing, risking stroking Kris's head with one hand. "Shhh, it's okay. You know you can trust me, with anything. Like I do you. We don't have to talk about it or anything, either."

Kris relaxes slightly, rubbing his head instinctively into Adam's hand like a cat. Adam's heart contracts a little; it's always been like that for them, the trust.

"Can I?" Adam says, putting his hand lightly on Kris's pants somewhere around mid-thigh, trailing his fingers slowly up toward his ass.

Kris huffs out a breath and buries his head in the sofa, nods slightly.

Adam has to breath deeply. He strokes Kris's actual ass; his palm curves over its beautiful roundness. Holy shit, Kris's _ass_. He must make a little sound, because Kris laughs a little, choked.

"Do you have any fucking idea?" Adam murmurs, then lifts his hand and taps Kris's cheek, just a tap.

Kris gasps and wiggles on Adam's lap. Adam's getting harder by the second. He shifts around. "Uh. Sorry," he says, because there's no way Kris won't have noticed his dick, which is probably drilling a hole in Kris's stomach right now.

"This is probably too weird," Kris says, muscles tensing under Adam's hand as if Kris is thinking about getting up. Adam realizes he's got to get his fucking shit together and do this right. Kris's voice is tense again, on the edge of freaked out, but Adam thinks it's more that Kris really needs this than anything else.

"No. Wait. I can do this. This doesn't have to be--It can be whatever you need." Adam takes a breath, then brings his hand down harder on the same cheek. Kris gasps. Adam smacks the other cheek, a little harder. Kris makes a bitten-off moaning sound, and that's it. Adam realizes yeah, fuck, this is what Kris really needs. He gets serious now, peppering Kris's ass with swats, building slowly in intensity, the way he knows is the way to do it.

Kris is panting now, face flushed -- the part of it Adam can see -- hair curling on his temples. Kris's hands are balled into fists, and Adam suspects Kris is frustrated, wanting more, but he's afraid to presume, leery of transgressing. "Can I--" He lets his hands linger at Kris waistband. "Do you want..."

"Oh, god," Kris says, voice thick.

That's enough for Adam, and he's reaching around, trying to find the fastenings for Kris's pants, careful not to get near his cock, but Kris is there first and gets them undone. Together, they shove them down. Kris is wearing boxers. Adam chokes out a sort-of laugh. "Plaid?"

"Fuck you," Kris manages, muffled in the sofa cushion.

"Mmm, we could arrange that." Adam means it to be their regular kind of banter, but given the circumstances, probably it wasn't the wisest thing to say. Kris stiffens a little, but this time, Adam knows what to do to divert him.

"Amazing," he can't help but say, as he tentatively puts his hand on the back of Kris's thigh. Kris's legs are muscled, sturdy, just like the rest of his body, and the swell of his thighs where they join his hips... it's like some wet dream of a boy's body, but with a little curve, just the right kind to--

"Ow," Kris says, when Adam smacks his thigh; Adam wants to see the flesh turn pink.

"Sorry," Adam says, stroking the skin, watching, fascinated, as the color fades to pale again. "I should have asked whether--"

"Good ow, though."

"Holy fuck." Adam does it again, this time to the other thigh, then intersperses lighter smacks to the thighs with heavier ones to Kris's ass.

Kris pants and squirms. Adam feels like he's going to explode. His dick is aching, hot, and he can feel Kris, his hard length digging into Adam's thigh.

Adam has no road map for this. It's completely fucked up, so wrong, that this is happening now, like this, when there's so much unspoken between them. But the hotness of Kristopher Allen draped over his lap, now moaning -- that was an actual _moan_...

Adam can't help it, he wonders what would it be like if Kris were naked, completely naked, if his ass was right there under his hand? Would Kris moan even louder? Would Kris want that? How much of this does Kris want? So far, Adam doesn't think it actually hurts, but if Kris were naked.... With one hand, Adam keeps spanking Kris; the other creeps under the leg of Kris's boxers, just a quarter of an inch, against Adam's will--

"Yeah," Kris groans, unmistakable. His head is buried in the crook of his arm.

Adam doesn't let himself think, just hooks his fingers in the waistband and pulls it down. Kris's hand is there instantly, shoving at the boxers. It looks like Kris is going to strip them off completely, but alarm bells are going off in Adam's head, so he stops Kris's hand and Kris settles back down. His ass is completely exposed, but Kris's dick is still covered underneath him. Adam's grateful he thought to stop it before Kris got completely naked; he's got a lot of willpower, especially when it comes to Kris, but he doesn't think he could stop himself from taking more, if Kris's naked cock were lodged between his thighs while he lay over his lap. As it is, it's going to be pretty impossible; Adam breaks out in a sweat when he looks down. Kris's ass is perfect, fleshy but firm, rounded and smooth. His thighs are thick, sturdy. A slight flush covers Kris's ass, his thighs. Adam has to just breathe for a second, knowing that it came from his hand, his hand on Kris's skin...

He has to close his eyes before he swats him; it's too much, too fucking much, he's not going to be able to handle this. Kris moans, and this time, there's a new edge to it, something that sends chills up Adam's spine. He opens his eyes. Kris's hands are stretched above his head now, scrabbling at the pillows against the head rest. Oh, fuck. Kris really needs this, really likes this. Loves this, holy shit. Adam bites his lip, tries to multiply in his head, anything to keep from just fucking flipping Kris over and rutting down onto him.

His hand hovers above Kris's skin, shaking. He lets himself touch, stroke, just once. Kris squirms, but stays where he is, so Adam pulls his hand back, then lets it fall. Kris's whole body shakes. Adam does it again, and again. Kris's hands are clenched around the pillow now, and he, oh god, he's lifting his ass into Adam's hand. He's started murmuring something, words that are swallowed by the cushion under his head, but Adam can tell his accent's gotten more pronounced. The sweet open vowels do what they always do to Adam; Kris's voice is like dark brown honey.

Kris's ass is starting to glow rosy-pink; his thighs, too. Because he's still got his boxers on -- they're just shoved down -- Kris's legs are cinched together, and Adam can't see any of things he's trying not to think about. Kris's legs strain at the boxers like he wants to spread his legs, which, god, Adam can't even deal with this.

He takes a deep breath. He needs to focus on Kris. This is about Kris, and Kris's needs, not Adam's fantasies. He looks at Kris's face, just the side of it that he can see, checking in again, like he has been all along. Kris's eyes are closed, his face bright red. Sweat glistens on his cheek, or is that tears? Adam's hand falters; he really doesn't think he can do this if Kris is actually into pain. Adam's never been into giving pain, not really, just a hot scene here and there, islands in a sea of sweet, hot vanilla sex.

"Kris?" Adam's voice comes out rough, low. "Are you--This probably should stop."

"Don't stop." Kris's voice is wrecked. He buries his face in his arms. "I need..." Adam can see the back of Kris's neck; it flares even redder. Kris is embarrassed, mortified. But he still needs this enough to ask for it, take that risk.

"Kris..."

"Please."

"Baby," Adam says, despite himself, stroking Kris's back through his damp shirt soothingly. "Baby, okay, hang on, I've got you. We'll get you there, okay?" Because he knows this, the desperation to get away from one's thoughts, one's body. "Just, stop it soon, or I'll have to, 'kay?"

Kris nods into the cushions, relaxes down onto Adam's lap even more thoroughly. It's like-- it's total trust, total permission, something that always turns Adam on. Okay, he's going to go with this. Kris is a big boy, apparently knows what he's doing, what he needs.

He leans down and whispers into Kris's ear, "But in the meantime, I'm going to spank you so good. Hold on, because I'm going to give you what you want."

Kris makes a sound that's part way between a sigh and a moan that goes right to Adam's cock, and Adam starts again.

This time, he lets himself touch more of Kris. He he puts one hand on Kris's upper back; half reassurance and half to giving Kris the feeling of being held down. He'll move it if there's the least sign Kris wants to get up, but right now, Adam has the feeling Kris wants the opposite; surrender to something outside himself. Adam focuses in now, makes himself hit Kris a little harder.

And Kris responds, arching up beautifully into Adam's hand, making little mewling sounds. Adam focuses on one cheek for a while until Kris is gasping, then switches to the other. He gives them both a break after a while, lets himself run his hand over the heated flesh of Kris's ass, slide down over his wadded up boxers to his thigh. Kris gasps and strains to pull his legs apart, and Adam thinks he knows what that means; he slaps Kris's thigh, harder than before, and Kris gasps again. Adam can imagine this so beautifully if they were lovers, how he'd pull Kris's legs apart, pepper his tender inner thighs with his palm, nothing too hard, but enough to make Kris gasp and moan. Kris would be begging for Adam to touch his balls, his cock...

 _"Adam_ ," Kris moans, and the sound of his name in that voice, rough and desperate, sends chills up Adam's spine, makes him breathless with want.

Adam takes a few deep breaths and moves his hand back up to Kris's ass, spanks it again, and again, and again, over and over, loving the sounds Kris is making, gutteral bitten-off groans and little whines when the slaps don't come close enough together. Kris's shirt is soaked through with sweat now, and his hair is curling dark at the nape of his neck.

It feels like they could do this forever, a kind of dance, both of them getting something beautiful out of it, but something in the sounds Kris is making, something intangible in the air, reminds Adam that he's the one, out of the two of them, who's rational -- if you can call _more turned on than he's ever been in his life_ rational. So even though it feels like they can stay in this moment forever, they can't. And Kris -- Kris is crying now, or at least making sounds like something close to that, wrenching gasps.

Adam can't believe Kris is giving this to him, letting him do this, see him like this. He wants to give Kris everything, everything he needs, but part of that is stopping it when it needs to stop.

"Kris," he whispers, slowing his hand, "Kris."

Kris shakes his head. "Don't stop." It's harsh, insistent. Kris is shaking; Adam sees it in the lines of his back, visible through his shirt.

"Gotta stop, baby. Last ones, ten more, 'kay?"

"No," Kris moans, but finally nods his head, jerky.

Adam spaces them out, lets himself see what this would be like between them, playing like this if they actually were together. They'd know each other so well: Adam would know exactly what the edge was for Kris; Kris would know he could trust Adam -- though that part seems pretty well covered already. Since he knows he's going to stop, Adam lets himself really see it, see what he's doing, really look at Kris's gorgeous ass, rising into every spank, grinding down into Adam's lap in between. He lets himself think, just for a moment, of what it would be like, doing this to Kris, then spreading him out, already needy, making him wet and desperate until he was begging, then fucking into him, feeling the heat of his pink cheeks under him, swatting him once in a while just to feel him shudder.

Adam rests his hand on Kris's heated ass when he's done, just rests it there, breathing hard. There's no roadmap for what happens now, just like there wasn't one for what just happened. His dick is so hard it literally aches, he wants to pull Kris into a hug and never let go, his throat feels tight from unspoken words.

His hand is shaking on Kris; his heart is racing. His thoughts are flitting from one terrible consequence to another.

Silence grows, and Kris is still lying there across his lap, a warm heaviness. It takes everything Adam has in him, every bit of his love, to keep him from just rutting up into Kris's warm weight, rubbing his cock up on Kris's belly, pushing Kris down harder onto him, getting the friction he's desperate for.

It feels like they stay like that forever, a frozen tableau: Kris across Adam's lap, face buried in his wet sleeve, Adam bent slightly over him.

It seems like forever, but it probably isn't very long at all until Kris pushes himself suddenly up to a sit. Adam has time to think, _we're so screwed now, nothing will ever be the same_ , and he's amazed how much that hurts, thinking about the inevitable awkwardness this is going to cause between them.

But then Kris straddles Adam's lap, swings a leg over him as much as he can with his ridiculous boxers still tangled around his thighs. Kris growls -- fucking _growls_ \-- and scrabbles at the waistband, does some kind of contortion and kicks them off along with the pants tangled around his knees -- kicks them _off_ \--then buries his face in Adam's neck, wraps strong arms around Adam's back and grinds down onto Adam's crotch, totally naked except for his shirt.

Adam can't breathe, his vision is all weird, and every sense is firing, full of the feel and smell of Kris, writhing in his lap. Adam has handfuls of Kris's sodden shirt, can feel the weight and heat of Kris's thighs around his, can feel... oh my _god_ , can feel Kris's cock, even through his pants.

"No, Kris, we shouldn't, you don't--" he manages to gasp, but Kris's hand reaches unerringly for Adam's zipper, yanking on it while the heel of his hand simultaneously presses down on Adam through his jeans. Kris rubs his cheek against Adam's neck; Kris's cheek is covered with prickly stubble, the kind Adam loves to feel rubbing against him.

Adam pants and grabs Kris's wrist, tries to still his hand. "Kris," he tries again, but his voice comes out throaty, low, choked with lust.

Kris is strong, really strong; he grabs Adam's restraining hand and turns it around so Adam's feeling his own rock-hard dick through his jeans, Kris's hand on top of his, and oh _fuck_ , the thought of them both...

Adam's tenuous control is frayed; something hot and heavy and wild is waiting, making his belly flutter, his chest tight. "Ohhh, fuuck," he groans when Kris manages to get Adam's jeans open and wraps his big, strong, graceful fingers around Adam's cock, still covered in his briefs.

Adam realizes his hands have settled on Kris's thighs, prickly and corded with muscle. He marshals his better self one more time. "Kris, we shouldn't, we--"

Kris's hand moves awkwardly on the fabric covering Adam's cock. "Come on," Kris says into Adam's ear, all Southern and deep. "Unless. Unless you don't--" Just a sliver of doubt has entered Kris's voice, and that's just wrong.

And that's it, Adam's done. There are limits, and Adam passed his a long time ago. He lets his fingers tighten around Kris's thighs.

"Yeah," Kris breathes, pulling Adam's underwear up and out, letting the elastic settle back down over Adam's balls. Kris pants into Adam's neck and then touches Adam's cock, Jesus _Christ_ , tentative fingers tracing gently up the side. Adam bucks reflexively and Kris hisses, strokes a little harder.

Adam has to bite his lip and bury his face in Kris's hair to stop himself from just taking over, but this is so fucking hot, Kris exploring. Kris opens his mouth on Adam's neck and wraps long fingers around Adam's dick at the same moment; it's like someone hotwired a connection between the two places.

Adam's chest is heaving and Kris isn't much better off. Kris's lips move from Adam's neck to his jaw; Adam can feel his exhalations on his face. Adam's head turns without thought. He has enough time to think, _last chance_ , then, inevitably, _fuck it_ , and he's meeting Kris's lips, full and hot.

This isn't how Adam imagined a first kiss would be with Kris. If he'd let himself think about it, he'd pictured it as sweet and tentative, or maybe almost-accidental while they were laughing and goofing around. He'd thought he'd have to hold back, let Kris explore and take the time he'd need. Instead, Kris's mouth is already open when their lips first touch, and it only takes a few seconds of fevered presses before his tongue pushes into Adam's mouth, insistent. Adam sucks on it instinctively and Kris presses in harder, cupping his free hand behind Adam's head. Adam lets himself bring a hand to the back of Kris's neck, curls it softly at his nape.

Kris's tongue pulls back and Adam figures that's enough of an invitation; his tongue presses tentatively at Kris's lips. Kris bucks in his lap; Adam figures, _yeah_ and goes for it, pushing his tongue into Kris's mouth, pressing Kris's head gently to him with the fingers on the back of his neck. Kris makes a sound like something come undone and moves his hand on Adam's dick, too loose, tentative, but oh, _fuck_ , Adam had almost forgotten about that in the heat of their kissing.

Kris lets go of Adam's cock for a moment, then holy _shit_ , his hand is back, stretched wide around both their dicks together, fumblingly trying to get something going. They're both still too dry, though, and Kris really doesn't know what he's doing.

Curious, Adam presses a finger up against Kris's mouth next to his tongue, slides it slowly into his mouth, kissing him the whole time. Kris doesn't even hesitate; he sucks it in, right next to Adam's tongue. Adam gasps in a breath, pushes in another finger, another. Kris's tongue curls around them all, licking and sucking.

Adam's hand is shaking when he pulls it out, dripping, brings it down to their laps. When Adam wraps his slick hand around them both, Kris wrenches his mouth away from Adam's and gasps, arching backwards. The line of his neck is gorgeous; Adam leans in and licks where Kris's frantic heartbeat pulses and Kris gasps again.

Kris pants on Adam's lap for a moment, then brings his hand to his own mouth, _holy shit_ , sucks and licks it until it's dripping and brings it down to where Adam's hand is working.

Adam pulls his hand back and Kris wraps his hand around them both again, this time less tentative, slick with saliva. Adam can't figure out where to look: Kris's fingers, jacking them together, Kris's thighs, muscles flexing, riding him, the arch of Kris's neck, Kris's face... his face, eyes closed, mouth open, tilted back, gasping for air.

He can't think, can't process all the signals his body and brain are trying to send. He can't help feel like this is all wrong, like he's taking advantage, like...

"Adam," Kris says, voice hoarse, then leans forward and kisses Adam again, tongue pushing hard into Adam's mouth while his fingers work them together, pre-come mixing with the saliva now, dirty and unbelievably hot.

Kris's kiss feels almost desperate, like he needs something he's not getting.

Adam gets it all at once. Kris needs a lot of things right now, and Adam's not giving them. Kris is fucking _beautiful_ and he's on Adam's lap naked, like some wet dream come to life. Kris doesn't want Adam to be afraid, doesn't need Adam to seem like he doesn't want this.

Fuck it anyway, since when was he afraid like this? This is hotter than shit, and Kris wanted Adam for this. _Wants_ Adam for this; he's shaking under Adam's hands, loose on Kris's thighs.

Now that he lets himself feel it, Adam can sense it in his own body, the feeling of something slightly off. His hands itch with the need to grasp; his tongue with the urge to take.

He shifts his hands, sliding one up Kris's thigh, up over his hip and his back and into Kris's hair, and the other down to their laps; he squeezes Kris's hand, holds it still. "Slow," he says, then jacks Kris's hand on their cocks. It's sweet torture, forcing the pace slower, and Kris gasps into every pull.

Adam's hand in Kris's hair tightens and he takes over the kiss, pushing his tongue into Kris's mouth, sliding it around Kris's tongue, swallowing the sounds Kris is making.

There's some kind of wild joy rising in Adam's chest, the knowledge that he can actually have this, have this with Kris, holy _shit_. It makes him want to laugh, to throw his head back and sing, to grin and roll Kris under him in some flower-dappled meadow. He thinks Kris feels it too, the energy between them; he's gone all warm and pliant under Adam's hands, totally giving it up for him. "Baby, yeah," Adam murmurs into Kris's ear, tightening his hand around Kris's so he can't move it, and Kris shudders, body tensing, right on the edge. "Not yet, not yet," Adam says, and Kris groans, but he doesn't come, just gasps in air, chest rising and falling frantically.

Adam kisses Kris's sweaty face, up his jaw, pushes his tongue into Kris's ear and holds his head still while Kris shakes, then trails kisses down his neck, across his collar bone. He dislodges his fingers from Kris's hair and runs them down his back, slow, caressing Kris's skin on the way, down, down. He strokes softly over the sensitive skin of Kris's ass just to see what will happen, and Kris hisses and bucks, sucking wildly on Adam's tongue. Experimentally, he brushes a finger at the top of Kris's crack; Kris bucks again, pressing back into it. That answers that; he brushes again, a little lower, and Kris moans, unmistakable.

"You're so fucking beautiful," Adam murmurs into Kris's ear, then brings his fingers to his mouth to get them dripping.

Kris mumbles against Adam's neck, "No, you... you are so...," sucking hard enough to hurt just right. Adam brings his fingers back to Kris's ass, holds his breath and rubs softly around his hole. Kris gasps. Adam doesn't waste any time; he presses in with just a fingertip. Kris's mouth tenses on his neck, but Adam lets go of his hand around his cock, curls his fingers around Kris's cheek, kisses him soft and sweet. "Okay?" he breathes into Kris's mouth.

"Yeah, more than," Kris whispers, licking at Adam's lips.

Adam presses in a little further; Kris's mouth falls open and Adam licks at his lips. Kris's hand is still uncurled and Adam nudges it with his own, urging Kris on again. Kris brings his hand up to his mouth, gets it wet again, wraps it around both their cocks, starting the slow jacking again.

Adam wonders... He curls his finger inside Kris, searching--

"Ohh," Kris moans, head thrown back, tendons in his throat standing out. "I wondered--"

"Holy shit." Adam's panting now, having a hard time processing how hot this is.

Kris's free hand moves restlessly on Adam; up his arm, pausing on his biceps muscle, thumb brushing on his neck, a fingertip tweaking at Adam's nipple through his shirt; they both moan together. Adam's brain is starting to short-circuit; he can't help but thrust up into Kris's hand.

Adam tries another finger; a grunt and then nothing but yielding, oh god Kris is going to _love_ fucking, Adam can tell... But right now, he's trembling on Adam's lap, thighs clenched tight, little guttural sounds leaving his half-open mouth, hand jerking their cocks so sweetly.

Adam flashes on how this started, Kris's need; he slides his free hand around Kris's hip, brushes it gently around the curve of Kris's gorgeous ass cheek. "Yeah," Kris moans, tightening his hand on their cocks.

"Yeah, fuck yeah," Adam says in his lowest register, then spanks Kris's ass.

Kris throws his head back; his cock is leaking now, making the slide of his hand that much better.

It's all Adam can do to focus, but he does, slapping at Kris's hip, his thigh, curling the fingers of his other hand where it'll do the most good.

"I'm gonna, I'm gonna--" The words are slurred, breathless against Adam's ear; Kris is curled forward, his whole body tight. Kris's tongue swipes at Adam's skin wherever he can find it.

"Yeah, god, sweetheart," Adam babbles, hand clenching on Kris's hip, fingers inside Kris's body twisting just a little. "You need it, I want you to, oh my god. I wanna see, see you--" He slaps Kris's ass harder, letting his hand hit at Kris's thighs, then slides it under and slaps just hard enough at his balls..

"Oh my god," Kris pants, then grunts and stiffens, coming in shuddering waves. His head falls back and his neck is bared. He moans desperately, brings up his free hand to his mouth; holy fuck, he's _biting_ at the heel of his hand. He tightens inside around Adam's fingers; another jolt of heat up Adam's spine.

"So good, so good, so beautiful," Adam murmurs, momentarily swept up in just _watching_ this, Kris coming apart on his lap. His skin is gleaming with sweat, his hair is a mess, his lips when he finally moves his hand away from his mouth are swollen, red. Aftershocks keep rocking Kris; there's one last one when Adam pulls his fingers gently out of him, and isn't _that_ another fucking turn-on.

"Holy--" Kris says, all gravel and sex voice. He doesn't give Adam any time to think, just leans forward and kisses him, pushes in hard with his tongue, wrapping one hand behind Adam's head to hold him in place and the other -- oh _god_ \-- the other sliding through the come spattered all over Adam's stomach and coating his hand, dribbling it on Adam's cock and jacking him nice and firm, achingly slow, not quite, not quite--

"Tell me if it's wrong, how I'm doing it," Kris pants softly in between quick licks to Adam's mouth.

"It's perfect." Adam writhes a little. "Frustrating. I'm so. I'm so--"

"Mmmm," Kris says, still breathless. "A little frustration sometimes," he brings his free hand up under Adam's shirt, lays it across the sensitive skin of Adam's belly, "leads to great... great things." He keeps pumping, not going any faster, flicks his tongue at Adam's lips, _finally_ ghosts his hand up to Adam's chest and searches for a nipple. When he finds it he just circles a fingertip around, maddening.

"Come on," Adam manages, panting.

"There something you want?" Kris asks, sultry-low, maybe even accentuating the twang on purpose.

Whatever; Adam's shaking now, thighs clenching tight but still not there, not quite... "Fuck you," he gasps out.

Kris chuckles low, then _finally_ flicks his finger against Adam's nipple and tightens his grip on Adam's cock at the same time. Adam full-out moans.

"Yeah," Kris says, flicking harder, then pinching. "I wanna watch. Wanna see. You're so incredible, so beautiful. You make me so..."

It starts in Adam's toes; a reflexive curl, travels up to his thighs, already clenched tight. He's on the edge, on the edge, and then he's falling, a fiery free flight of pleasure; it's everywhere, unbelievably intense. His head arches back, but Kris's hand catches it, pulls it forward and meets Adam's mouth with his. Kris is strong -- _really_ strong; Adam can't lean backwards, which is also fucking hot, those _arms_ of Kris's, oh _god_. Kris swallows his groans, mouth hard on him, as the orgasm rips through Adam, on and on.

Kris doesn't let go until Adam stops moaning into his mouth, finally easing off with little presses of his lips to Adam's like he can't get enough, while Adam quivers with aftershocks, hands clutching Kris's hips, helpless.

Eventually Kris leans forward so their foreheads are together; both of them are still breathing hard.

The world comes back to Adam in pieces, one at a time: Kris's exhalations, his legs going numb, come cooling on his stomach, Kris's hands on Adam's shoulders, his own hands on Kris's hips, still clutching too hard.

He eases his hold and Kris shifts a little; his thigh muscles have to be screaming at him by this point.

There's something digging into Adam's ass, and he remembers, _oh, sofa_.

In a dressing room. At a concert.

Fuck.

And also, oh god: _Kris_.

He feels himself go tense. There are so many ways this can go wrong.

He pulls back and peers at Kris, who looks... okay, he looks amazing, but he's not exactly meeting Adam's eyes either. "Kris?" Adam asks, and doesn't bother to hide his fear. Fears.

Kris raises his head and meets Adam's eyes. His face is flaming and he's searching Adam's face almost like he isn't sure Adam--

" _Kris_ ," Adam says, letting his feelings into his voice for once, all his feelings.

Kris's eyes soften and he turns even redder, but a smile tugs at the edges of his mouth. "Really?" he asks.

"Idiot," Adam says succinctly, caressing Kris's cheek with his hand and smiling back at him. He can feel his own face heat because, yeah, he's pretty far gone.

"Oh." Kris smiles bigger. "So maybe we could leave this, uh," he looks around quickly, "sofa, and go--"

"My place?" Adam asks, light-headed, still not completely sure that Kris...

"Now who's being the idiot," Kris says, moving to stand up. "Ouch."

Adam smirks at him and raises an eyebrow.

"How the crap am I going to put pants on over this?" Kris complains.

Adam smirks bigger. "Should have thought of that sooner," he says airily, but brings Kris a bottle of water and some tissue.

"Yeah, well, we always did do everything backwards," Kris mutters as he cringes, pulling up his pants over his red thighs and ass.

Adam feels warmth coil in his gut, seeing that pink skin, seeing Kris's face flush yet again when he sees Adam looking at it. Adam smiles. "True. Ass backwards, in this case."

Kris stops what he's doing and stares at Adam. "You did not just say that."

Adam smirks even bigger.

" _I'm_ the one who makes bad puns," Kris says, prowling up to Adam all sexily.

"What are you going to do about it, anyway?" Adam says over his shoulder as he turns and walks out the door. "Punish me?" He doesn't even have to look at Kris to know what expression his face holds right now. Kris can't do anything about it, though, because they have to walk out past all the roadies and techs and media people.

Kris gets him back, though. Just when Adam's getting immersed in one last quick interview with a local station, Kris grabs his arm. "Excuse me a second," he says to the reporter, charming her with one of those patented smiles.

"I think it's time for you to go now," Kris murmurs so only Adam can hear. "My ass is on fire and my thighs feel like they're bright red. And I think." He cuts his eyes away from Adam's face and takes a deep breath. "I think I need someone to check on it all, up close."

Adam's brain short circuits. Is Kris saying what it sounds like-- "You want me to--"

"If you want to?" Kris says, looking at Adam's face carefully from under his lashes. How can he have any doubt at this point? After all they've shared, all they've gone through together, all they've been to each other?

But Adam realizes that actually, they really have done this ass backwards.

Adam reaches for Kris's hands, takes them in his own. "Kristopher Allen," he says softly. "Would you come home with me?" He leans in and whispers in Kris's ear: "And let me fuck you?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Kris drawls, pulling Adam by the hand towards the waiting limo. "Maybe if we play our cards right we can eventually work our way forwards to necking."

"Actually, the backasswards way has kind of grown on me," Adam says, eyeing the way Kris is walking kind of gingerly in front of him.

Kris shoots a look back over his shoulder at Adam that would melt steel. "Maybe if you play your cards right you'll get to try that way again sometime."

"Yeah?" Adam says into Kris's ear, sidling up behind him and furtively grabbing a section of his ass and squeezing.

Kris makes a sound that's half moan and half, well, _moan_. Adam lets go and Kris walks dazedly forward. "Pretty damn sure, yes," he says after a while, smiling half-sheepishly and half-heatedly at Adam as the flashbulbs go off.

Adam's pretty damn sure, too. If he has anything to say about it. And it appears, from the look on Kris's face as he slides into the limo right before Adam, that he does.


End file.
